chiaroscuro

an anthology of sorts: collecting all my noteworthy uchiha itachi/uchiha sasuke drabbles from tumblr and posting them on here. drabbles might be canon, might not, might be interconnected, might not. content is questionable, but that's half the fun. really.

i. morning blues
: ""for thinking i wouldn't get up at two thirty to help you feed and how mistaken your assumption is." (vampire!sasuke)

first drabble: morning blues
alternative universe, non-incest, ft. vampire!sasuke and a dead homeless guy. first itasasu drabble that pops up in my tags so i decided to post it first. life can be that simple sometimes.

inspired by & dedicated to: itasasu-guardian.
who posted this:

I've seen so many Itasasu fics with itachi as a seme vampire and sasuke as an uke human slave.

why not uke vampire sasuke and seme human itachi?~

switch the roles here?~ I would love a fanfic on that!~

i only tried to deliver. the aesthethic is blood-stained pastel.

i hereby disclaim any rights

.

Itachi touches the inside of his wrist with nimble fingers and it's almost reverent, wholesome - and the boy squirms uncomfortably when his thumb presses down on his dead pulse; Itachi comes to hold his hand and rests his temple against the crown of his head. Bright lights fall onto them in white swipes as the bus treks onwards through the city center. He wants to kick his feet against the empty seat in front of him just to look at the silly dinosaur-patterned socks Itachi bought him earlier this week, to see if they would peek from above his sneakers.

"You're tired.. You shouldn't have come with me." He murmurs softly as he squeezes the warm hand in his lap. Only Itachi is reflected in the window glass, contrasted by the inside lighting of the bus, as if he's the only person on the seat.

There's a soft chuckle as reply, a sound he's so easily gotten accustomed to it makes him close his eyes and revel in the familiarity. His cold thumb comes to caress Itachi's skin.

"You were hungry, Sasuke." Itachi states simply, unseemingly comfortable in the fact he's an accomplice to homicide, in the fact he watched him pin a homeless man down and rip open his throat in sheer need.

His throat closes up and he instinctively knows Itachi would kiss him and cradle him in the warmth of his embrace if there weren't other people on the bus. It's 4:46 in the morning and they're taking the first bus back to their home in the suburbs. Sasuke wets his dry lips and traces his teeth with his tongue and tastes metal on his palate. He had to wipe his chin with yesterday's newspaper and in the dim lighting of the alleyway, the fine print was blotched a dark messy red.

"Don't worry so much about it." It's a kind admonishment, the sort of comment that comes with spilling coffee on a dress shirt or breaking the remote control.

Sasuke scowls and leans his head against the cool window glass, offering Itachi the entire sight of his petulance. His skin turns paler, ashes' white, while the contrast wih his dark eyes grows starker. Itachi chuckles again, amused at this ageless creature and his age-old whims.

He confesses in a tone of voice that implies repetance and repitition, "I don't get you, sometimes."

Itachi carefully brushes his fingertips over the bulb of his cheek, down to the outline of his jaw. It ultimately shatters this precocious image of brotherhood they project to the outside world, even inside the small bus.

"Well, I would hate to bore you." He leans in close and Sasuke can feel his hot breath and anticipates a kiss that would leave him shivering if... he was human, too.

There's no kiss, only a gentle press of the foreheads. It leaves him wanting more and the greed nestles itself under his undead flesh. Itachi can be so frustrating sometimes, in how he gives and when he decides to give. (and in what he decides to give.) It's been 359 years since Sasuke felt so much for someone, for anyone.

"You better kiss me for real when we get home." Sasuke says, only slightly on the edge. The homeless man's blood still heavy on his stomach.

Itachi settles back against the gray cushions of the bus seat and folds his hands against his abdomen. He hums lowly and answers, "I think you should go rest, the sun's going to rise in ten minutes or so."

His head thunks against the glass and if he put a bit more force into the motion, he could've cracked the window. Itachi only smiles patiently and reaches for his hand again.

Itachi's lap is infinitely warmer than his. It always manages to take him by surprise.

They stop two blocks from their apartment and get out of the bus and see the orange sky slipping in between the tall buildings and overhead. They're still holding hands and Itachi is also holding a plastic bag from Family Mart with a bottle of shampoo and tea-scented hand cream. Sasuke feels a soft peck to his temple and rolls his eyes.

"What was that for?" He wonders aloud as they cross the street to walk underneath the trees.

Itachi caresses the inside of his wrist again, touches his dead pulse.

"For thinking I wouldn't get up at two thirty to help you feed and how mistaken your assumption is." He sounds serious, despite his casual posture. His ponytail sways along his shoulders.

Sasuke tugs at his hand and stands on his toes, damning his never-changing seventeen year-old appearance. He presses a kiss to the corner of Itachi's mouth and replies, "I would've never thought of buying hand cream to douse the smell of blood."

"That's what I'm here for." He states wryly before kissing him squarely on the mouth. Sasuke knows how cold and dry his lips must feel and muses for the umpteenth time why Itachi goes along with it, with this.

They can hear the rumble of the garbage car as it rounds the corner. Five more minutes and they're back home as the Uchiha brothers. When Sasuke opens tomorrow's paper there might be a paragraph about a murdered homeless man found in a dumpster. There might not, it depends on how much space is available. He remembers how the dim lighting fell on Itachi's face, on the slope of his nose when he helped him roll the body in cut-open black garbage bags.

Sasuke remembers Itachi's hands and how beautiful they were at that moment, when he closed the dumpster and blocked off the awful smell of rotting food and flesh.